Forbidden Love
by Kareyu
Summary: The story of how Hiei's mother, Hina, met and fell in love with his father, a fire demon, on the floating island of Koorime, and how they tragically sacrificed their love for the life of their children. Please read! I'm not updating until I get more rev
1. Crimson snow

She was dancing with the snowflakes, twisting and turning with them as they

tumbled from the sky. When a gust of wind blew from the north, she stretched out her

arms and closed her eyes, smiling as the crisp air blew the loose strands of hair away

from her face. It was another beautiful day on the floating ice island of Koorime, and

she was taking full advantage of it. Instead of doing her normal chores, she was enjoying

a walk out in the freshly powdered forest behind her home.

And he was watching her. Though badly hurt and exhausted, he fought off the

overwhelming urge to completely collapse. An evergreen concealed his presence from

her, but he had to stay awake long enough to make sure he wasn't seen. A few hours

before, he stumbled onto this unknown territory by accident after narrowly escaping a

deadly battle; he was in no condition to take up another fight. Even if it was between an

ice maiden.

She looked so innocent, though, as she chatted with the cardinals in the branches

above. He was sure she would bring him no harm, but what if she had bigger, stronger

friends that were also watching her? Grimacing as he clutched his freely bleeding wound

that penetrated his abdomen, he tried to lift himself into a better hiding position. The

sudden movement did not register well with his injury, and caused him to gasp with

immense pain.

Startled, she turned sharply around, gazing intently at the source from which the

sound erupted. He inwardly cursed himself as she advanced upon the evergreen,

cautiously pulling back the branches in order to get a closer look.

There he lay, bathed in crimson snow; shirtless and powerless to do anything

except scowl at her.

"If you make one move, ice girl, or raise your voice to call any of your friends,"

he emptily threatened her, "I'll kill you long before help will arrive!"

He glared at her, expecting to see fear in her facial expressions, but finding only

compassion.

"I can sense that you have a strong spirit," she said softly as the stepped toward

him, "but you have a very serious injury. May I examine it? I might be able to help

you…"

She slowly sank onto her knees beside him. Their eyes met: her eyes (snowflakes

adorning her long lashes) mirroring his own in a bright, ruby red color. She smiled,

reassuring him that she would not flee or cry for help. That was all he needed; he finally

lapsed into unconsciousness as she caught him in her arms.


	2. She takes my Pain away

1

Warmth was the first thing he felt. It was the only thing he cared about right then. His eyes refused to open, and his body would not respond to any commandments of movement. The softness and warmth were all that mattered. He breathed in deeply with felicity, but instantly regretted it as a searing pain brutally snapped his eyes open and twisted his body in pain.

Realization set in: he was in a small room, lying on a 4 posted bed with a fire crackling heartily beside it in a fireplace. A door opened, and the ice maiden emerged from behind it, carrying with her a tray of hot soup and a few slices of bread.

"Good! You're awake," she said, smiling cheerfully. Immediately, he put his defenses up.

"Who are you? Where am I? If you've told anybody that I was here, I swear I'll-"

"Please! Calm down! Nobody knows you are here," she hushed, laying the tray down on a table beside the bed. "My name is Hina. I am an ice maiden living on the floating island of Koorime, in which you are currently stationed - "

"That's all I need to know," he snapped sharply. Suddenly he rose, kicking off the warm sheets and trying unsuccessfully to stand. He felt a tugging at his waist, and noticed that his injury was neatly bandaged.

"No! You mustn't move!" She rushed to his side, easing him back down onto the bed. "I could only stop the bleeding temporarily. Your wound still needs to be cleaned and sealed." He brushed her off, snarling.

"I'm _fine._ I can take pain, and I certainly don't want a silly ice girl bustling about me."

"But you can't leave!" she exclaimed, tears standing in her scarlet eyes, "They'll kill you!"

"What? Don't be ridiculous. Who would kill me on an _ice _island? In case you haven't noticed, I'm a fire demon."

He certainly didn't look like a fire demon. He was probably a head taller than her, his muscular body yielding many battle scars. His hair was ebony black, rebelliously defying gravity, complete with a white star-shaped pattern that outlined the bangs that hung in his face. Something behind his carmine eyes burned with passion, as if they themselves were flames.

"Please let me explain," she continued, "Koorime is an island dedicated to the lives of ice _maidens. _Never has a male-stepped foot on it."

He stared at her blankly. "But how..."

"We are an asexual race. Every 100 years, we reproduce 2 exact copies of ourselves - always twin baby girls. At their birth, the mother cries 2 tear gems for each one."

"Tear gems?"

"Yes. Whenever our tears unite with the air, they turn into precious stones...It is for this reason our island is so heavily protected. Many have tried to steal our gems, or capture a maiden to produce the stones at their bidding. The Elders have always protected us, though, with magnificent powers. That's why you have to remain silent until you are healed! It's too dangerous to make the journey in ill-health."

"...why are you telling me this? Are you not afraid that I, too, could seize you for myself and forced you to make tear gems?"

She looked slightly appalled. "But...you wouldn't do such a thing, would you? You're not that type...I can see it in your eyes..."

He studied her, wondering if she truly meant what she said. For the first time, he noticed how attractive she was: long, flowing sea-green, curled slightly at the ends; a flawless face; and lips as read and as full as her sparkling eyes, which were presently fixed in apprehension and worry over his condition. He smiled at her troubled expression.

"You're right," he smirked, "I'm not that type." He looked around the room for an excuse to change the subject. "Is that for me?" he asked, gesturing towards the bowl of soup and plate of bread.

"Oh! Yes!" she exclaimed, mentally scolding herself for forgetting about his food, "You need to regain your strength - "

"Thanks, but I don't think I have the stomach for it. Literally."

She stared at his wound, biting her lip.

"I was wondering, now that you're awake and the cut has stopped bleeding, if you'd let me clean it. I believe I can seal it without stitching; I've been practicing some healing techniques..."

"Whatever it takes for me to recover as quickly as possible, do it."

"Mind you, it will be painful."

"I've told you before: I can take pain."

That said, she walked over to a large dresser and pulled out a clean cloth, some bandages, and a few bottles of medicine. She brought them, dragging with her a chair, to his bedside and sat down. He was lying prostrate on top of the sheets, clothed only from the waist down.

Timidly, she started untying the bandages. Her soft fingers felt cool and smooth against his burning skin.

"What is your name?" she asked, trying to take his mind away from the pain.

"For your safety, I better not tell you."

"Oh...alright then," she said absent mindedly, concentrating on the injury. "Where do you come from?"

"Many different places."

"How did you receive your wound?"

Hesitation preceded his answer. He watched her hold a medicine bottle up to the light, trying to read its label.

"Listen...Hina, right?" She paused at the mention of her name. "Most of your questions I can't answer, for reasons I can't discuss, so stop evading the task at hand. Besides, you don't really care about my responses; you're just trying to keep me from thinking about the pain."

"...in other words, you want me to be quiet?"

"Exactly."

She smiled inwardly at his curt answer. But he was wrong: she did care about what he said! Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at him: his hands were folded behind his head, eyes softly closed, preparing himself for the pain. She sighed as she poured the medicine on the open wound.

It felt like she had ignited his abdomen on fire. His body wrenched and struggled with anguish, trying instinctively to escape. He was fighting against himself, clamping his mouth shut to prevent from yelling out in pain.

She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly, and tried to comfort him with words.

"It really does help if you try not to think about it..."

"I'm NOT thinking about it!"

"Well then, what are you thinking of?"

"I'm TRYING not to crush your hand!"

"You don't have to yell at me..."

"I'M NOT YELLING AT YOU! If I was, I'D SOUND LIKE THIS!"

For a second, it looked like she was going to cry. She avoided his eyes, which were winced in suffering, and began to shake.

"I'm...I'm sorry, ok?" he tried to explain, "I didn't mean -"

But her laughter cut him off. She had tried to hold it back (which caused her to shake), but it exploded uncontrollably. He, however, was not amused.

"I'm glad _you're_ enjoying this."

"I-I'm sorry," she giggled, "I just thought it was funny how-"

"Never mind," he snapped moodily, "...get on with it."

"I'm done!" she said, grinning. "I administered the last douse while you were yelling at me. You didn't even notice, did you?"

He grumbled something unintelligible, seething with the burning sensation. She placed her hands over the wound, and a blue glow emitted from them. Magically, his injury sealed itself under her spirit energy. He was impressed.

"This is a cooling agent I made myself," she said, referring to a green gel that she was pouring into her hands, "It should provide some relief."

She tenderly began applying the substance over the place where the injury had been. It felt fo cool against his skin, so calming and soothing, that the pain seemed to disappear and alleviation took its place. As she gently massaged the gel into his skin, he began to fall asleep, sinking into the soft pillows. When he had been lulled into a deep sleep, she ceased the motion of her hands and sat in silence, watching him breathe. She felt guilty for putting him through such agony; she needed to make it up to him somehow. Before she left the room; before she picked up the tray of food she had brought him, she gave him a feathery kiss on the cheek, brushing a loose strand of hair behind his ear. After she was gone, he sat up with a puzzled look on his face, uncomfortably aware of the tingling feeling her lips had left on him...


End file.
